“Do you still have it?” Caleb asked.
I looked over, not understanding.
“The map,” he added.
Of course. The reason why they had landed here.
I reached into my pocket, and was relieved to discover it was still there. Thank God for zippered pockets.
I handed it to him.
He unrolled it and stared.
“We are not far,” he said, lowering it and looking at the woods before them. “The cottage should be close.”
I looked all around me, squinting in the darkness. All I saw were trees.
“I don’t see anything,” I said.
“It’s an old map,” he said. “It was drawn by hand, and is very rough. I’m sure it is not exact. But the markings indicate this area.”
Caleb looked around again, and I did, too. But neither of us saw anything.
“This cottage,” I said, “was here hundreds of years ago. Isn’t it possi
